Miss You
by awesome736
Summary: Kidd's mother is rarely mentioned. Kidd barely speaks of her, nor does his father. But when Kidd begins to remember her, he finds comfort in the arms of his family. And he finds that, sometimes, something as cliche as 'I love you' can turn the tides of unhappiness. Morlina is owned by SONICvsSORAgirl


Death the Kidd swept the brush through his dark hair, watched as his bangs slowly straightened out with every sweep. Setting the brush down, the fifteen-year-old boy gazed into his bathroom mirror, studied his amber eyes, his almost-totally symmetrical hair, the darned stripes that lashed out across his hair from his right and ended in the middle of his front bang. His skin was pale, he had no facial markings. Not a single blemish on his body.

Wait a second.

Taking a closer look in the mirror, he noticed that there was a small smudge of ink on his cheek. Probably from his psychotic pen at school. The pen was always exploding and shooting ink into his face during class. It was really getting under Kid's skin. But now it left marks on one side of his face and not the other? That was unforgivable. He'd see to mend this smudge now and he'd take care of the pen at school tomorrow.

He drew his tongue over his right hand thumb, leaned towards the mirror and attempted to clean off the smudge of ink.

"_You're doing it wrong, Kidd._"

Kidd's thumb stopped, and his head swiveled about his bathroom. He could've sworn he just heard a voice. A feminine, very familiar voice. There was no one in his bathroom. Quietly, he opened the door that lead into his bedroom, glanced around to confirm there was no one there, and then cautiously went back to removing himself of the ink.

"_It's like this._"

The voice again. And now Kidd's eyes were getting blurry. He swung his elbow up to his face and began to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. Only, when he removed his sleeves from his eyes, it was not his bathroom he was in. Nor was he alone.

A woman stood before him. She had white hair, with three black stripes crossing over to the center of her bangs. She had pale, fair skin, a sweet smile plastered upon her face. Her eyes were the color of Kidd's; amber which was darker in the center. She had on a white sort of jacket with golden buttons hugging her slim figure.

Around them, he saw his kitchen. The refrigerator was littered with scribbled crayon drawings of Grim Reaper, Kidd's father. There were pictures of Death Scythes and other weapons, Kidd's make-believe future weapon partner, and much more.

"_You're doing it wrong, Kidd_," she said, her voice like oil flowing from a bottle. "_It's like this_."

She drew her thumb over her tongue and slid it over Kidd's cheek, taking his shoulder in the other hand to keep him steady. Over, and over again, slowly and gently, she wiped her thumb on Kidd's cheek. Kidd had no clue what to make of this. He tried to summon up words, but none came. His voice was rendered to nothing, and he felt oddly shorter, much shorter than his actual height.

"_There_," the woman said, planting a kiss on Kidd's forehead. "_You look so much more handsome, marshmallow_!"

Kidd's cheeks filled with a deep blush. One, only one person had ever called him 'marshmallow.'

But this couldn't be…

Kid wiped his eyes with his sleeve again, and when he pulled his arm back, he was in his bathroom once more. He noticed he was on the floor, his back pressed against the wall behind him. He blinked a couple of times. What on earth had just happened? Was that woman he saw who he thought she was…?

No, that was nonsense. Kidd rose from the floor, brushed himself off, and left the bathroom. He opened the door that lead into his bedroom, and strolled inside.

Kidd's bedroom was plastered with a black-and-gray-striped wallpaper that hung over each and every wall. There was a bed in the dead center wall, with two white nightstands on either side. Two black lamps stood upon the two nightstands, their shades filled with Grim Reaper Skulls. The bed had four large pillows, two on either side of the bed, and a small skull-shaped pillow in the center. At the bed's end was a white bench with a small bookshelf built in at the bottom.

The whole room itself was perfectly symmetrical, as Kidd had furnished it himself. Kidd took a deep breath, being sure to savor every second of the symmetrical beauty and wonder of his bedroom. He exhaled slowly, as if he didn't want to let it go.

Kidd took a glance at the clock hanging over his bed.

_It's getting late, _he thought. _I better have dinner soon. I should probably throw something together in the kitchen for Liz and Patty as well._

Kidd strolled over to the door on the opposite side of the bathroom door, ready to make something for his weapon partners, Liz and Patty, for himself, and for his father, the Grim Reaper Lord Death. He swung open the door, and began to weave through the many halls that connected the rooms of his home. It was like a labyrinth to most, but Kidd could walk through the place with his eyes closed. He'd lived here since he was a child, so he knew every nook, cranny, doorway, and pretty much anything else within the house. He could name the artists of the paintings that hung in the walls in alphabetical order if he wanted to.

Kidd soon navigated himself into his kitchen, where his two weapon partners were waiting. The two were leaning on the marble countertop, Liz reading a magazine and Patty was reading over Liz's shoulder, pointing at the photos and laughing.

Liz glanced up at Kidd and greeted, "Hey, Kidd, ready to make dinner? I'm starving."

Kidd sighed. "I find it odd that in this house I'm the only one who can cook." He made his way over to the fridge and asked, "What do you guys want to drink?"

"Can I have some milk, Kidd?" Patty asked innocently in that annoying voice of hers.

"Sure, whatever." Kidd swung open the door to the fridge, set his eyes on the carton of milk on the top shelf, and proceeded to remove it from the fridge. However, just as he had pulled it down, he blinked, and he found himself once more in the haunting area of his mind that had set his memories free.

**0o0o0**

_Kidd pushed up the pair of glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. He was in his kitchen, seated on a stool at his counter, his chin resting on the marble counter, his arms bent to surround his head. His eyes were downcast and his brow was creased upward to form that sad sort of look a child could have. He was about twelve, almost a teenager. Yet, still a tender age._

_A young woman who quite resembled Kidd approached him, setting down a glass of skim milk and pulling up a stool to sit beside him._

"_You look so handsome, Marshmallow!" She cooed, ruffling his hair and quickly smoothing it back out again._

"_I don't feel handsome," Kidd muttered. "I always have to push these up and they're super annoying."_

"_At least they're symmetrical, right?" the woman replied with a smile._

"_Maybe so, but I don't like them at all."_

_The woman pulled the boy into her embrace, and tapped his nose with her index finger._

"_Mmm," she cooed. "You're the most handsome boy I've ever met. More so than your father, in fact. You're going to break hearts one day, Kidd."_

_Kidd smiled a bit, a blush on his cheeks. "I doubt that, Mother."_

**0o0o0**

"Kidd?" Liz asked, craning her neck and looking in Kidd's direction. "What's wrong? You've been standing there for a while now.

Kidd's eyes were wide, brimming with tears. His teeth were pressed together and his breathing was deep. The next thing Kidd knew, he had dropped the milk carton and sped off back to his bedroom.

"Kidd!" Liz cried after him. She realized in a moment that it was futile. She sighed. "Probably forgot to fold the toilet paper again," she muttered.

"Aw," Patty said, kneeling down beside the spilled milk and examining its contents. "We're out of milk now!"

Liz rolled her eyes. "Kidd can manage without us for now. Come on, Patty, let's get some milk and a burger."

**0o0o0**

Kidd was sitting in his room, on his bed, with no lights on. Memory after memory came rushing back. He just couldn't handle it. Being alone was how he had handled many things in the past, and that is how he was handling it now.

He did not, however, allow himself to cry. Something inside him, a dam of sort, was holding back all the tears, So far, it was a steady one.

Kidd stared down at the floor. God, where was she…?

_Creeeeaak_

Kidd's eyes widened a bit at the sound of the door opening. He didn't turn to look who it was for whatever reason. But at the bedroom door was Kidd's father, Lord Death, the ultimate Grim Reaper.

"Hiya, Kidd!" The Reaper said in his perky voice. "I came to visit you!"

"Father?" Kidd responded, still not turning to look at his father. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't a father come and see his son every once in a while? Goodness, I've missed those cute little stripes in your hair! Anyway, Liz and Patty were leaving just now and said you spilt some milk. They left to go buy some." The Reaper took a glance around the room. "Is that why the lights are off? Well, Kiddo, no use crying over spilt milk, right?" He laughed at his own joke, but Kidd remained totally silent.

There was about four heartbeats of awkward silence between father and son, who hadn't had a personal talk between only themselves for quite a while.

Then, Death spoke. "Kidd, is something wrong? I am your father, you can tell me if you want! I may be an almighty powerful death god and all that, but you can still tell me your problems. I was known for being very helpful with-"

"Dad," Kidd interrupted, "do you remember Mother?"

Silence. The topic of Kidd's mother was a little sensitive between the two. It only came up about once a month when Death said, 'oh, and I spoke to your mother today!' Kidd almost never spoke of her. When Death brought her up, Kidd just nodded and asked, 'How is she doing?' and then he would go about his business. Kidd had never, ever brought her up deliberately since she left.

Death responded, "Of course I remember her. We talk every month, and how could I forget her? She's my wife, Kidd."

"Do you think she's forgotten us?"

"Kidd, where on earth did this come up? Why are you saying this all of a sudden? She hasn't forgotten us at all."

There was another moment of silence.

"Kidd," Death murmured, "you can tell me. I'll love you no matter what."

Silence.

"Kidd?"

Kidd's shoulders trembled.

Death approached his son. "Kiddo?"

The rivers of tears were unmistakable. Kidd was crying; he was crying for the first time in ages. Death had not seen his own son cry for real for ages. This was new to him. Kidd's cheeks were red, his nose was running, and the tears endlessly flowed from his amber eyes.

Kidd however did not let a sob escaped his dam, which was quickly breaking.

"Kidd, why are you crying?" Death asked.

"Dad," Kidd hissed, "when is she coming home?" His voice was normal, despite the dears flowing down, down from his eyes.

"Pardon?" Death asked.

"She's out reaping the souls of the dead in your place. When is she coming home for real?"

The Reaper looked at the floor. "Kidd," he breathed, "if I knew, I'd sit at my calendar every day with you and count down the days, I'd buy all the jewelry in Death City, and I'd wait for her until the day came where I could finally see you two face-to-face and I could tell her I love her." He took a deep breath. "I don't know, Kidd. I know you miss her, maybe more than I do. And I wish there was something I could do to make you a little less miserable. All I can tell you now is that I love you, more than anything, more than life itself. I'd defy the heavens for you, you know that. And if I could bring Morlina back, I would."

Kidd's dam finally broke. Death suddenly felt quite the force on his body, and he looked down to see his son, sobbing openly into his father's chest.

"I miss her," Kidd bawled. "Damn it, I miss her, Dad…"

Death was surprised, considering his son had not shared such affection with him for a couple of years now. Nor had he himself been so open with his son. It felt like an oasis in a desert, a storm shelter in a tornado. It felt wonderful.

The Reaper wrapped his son in his loving embrace, letting Kidd's tears soak into his cloak. The two sank to the floor, and for a moment it resembled the two when Kidd was young and his father was closer to his son. It resembled the time when Kidd's mother and Death's wife was still in the household.

And for a while, the two sat there, crying together, and brought the small vestige of what once was back to reality.

Kidd's sobbing eventually subsided as he cried himself to sleep in his father's arms. Death only stopped murmuring comforting words to him when he felt Kidd's breathing even out, when he felt the tears in his cloak dry, and when he had looked at the clock and saw it was probably time to leave and let Kidd sleep. He hoisted Kidd up into his arms, like he used to do when Kidd was a child, and slid him under the blankets of his bed, careful not to wake him.

Feeling emotionally fulfilled when it came to his relationship with Kidd, Death took one more look at his sleeping son before he left.

Under the mask, Death smiled.

In sleep, Death the Kidd smiled.

They really, _really did_ look like angels.


End file.
